


Lawless Fowling

by thecattydddy



Series: Heir To The Empire [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Adapted From Comics, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-31 17:53:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13980360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: Ignatius is tired of working for the rats of the street. With Penguin in Arkham, the boy seizes the opportunity to speak to the man when he is at his lowest. They strike up a deal of sorts - In exchange for his help in freeing Oswald, the bird will teach him everything he knows about running Gotham's underworld.Canon divergence S4, onward.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! Thanks for showing interest in my story. This fic takes place in the Gotham universe, featuring a character adapted from the New 52 - Ignatius Ogilvy, aka Emperor Penguin. While he has some basis in the comics, his initial portrayal is somewhat divergent from the canonical version of Ignatius that you see. I intend to eventually lend his character more into that version of himself as time goes on.
> 
> In addition to Ignatius, I intend to include a number of other cameos of characters from the comics or some animated works, so be sure to keep your eye out for them, as well. As always, feedback is appreciated!

_This was not my finest idea._  
  
Ignatius couldn't help the thought as he followed the guard down the halls of Arkham, his shoes clicking against the tiles as they went in silence. It'd cost him way too much money to get this outfit together, but he'd decided at the time that it'd been worth it to fit the part. Still, a costume was only so effective and if he wanted to make this work, he would have to play the part to the best of his ability.  
  
Getting into Arkham to talk to an inmate was not particularly difficult to do, but he'd wanted to be subtle about it. Just waltzing in under his real alias and without good reason would draw undo attention rather quickly - Especially when the inmate he intended to visit was Oswald Cobblepot. No, instead he'd chosen a less suspicious means of getting a moment alone with him.  
  
He had chosen to pose as the son of the man's late step-sister.  
  
Their relations was distant, yes, but none-the-less family was family and it wouldn't be as unbecoming if a nephew was coming to visit his uncle as it would be a stranger coming to visit a criminal mastermind.  
  
The guard finally came to a stop at the door, unlocking it. His hand closed around the handle and he turned it, but hesitated for a moment. His eyes fell back on the teen with uncertainty. "Are you sure about this, kid?"  
  
"Absolutely," Ignatius returned.  
  
The guard gave him one last look before shrugging and pushing the door open, fully. "You've got a visitor, Penguin."  
  
"Who could _possibly_ be here to visit me?"  
  
Ignatius smiled slightly, sending off the most unassuming vibes he could for the guard's sake. "Afternoon, Uncle Oswald."

Ignatius remembered the first time he’d ever set his eyes on Oswald Cobblepot. It’d been back when the man had been in power the first time, having overthrown Gotham’s strongest families. He’d gained an insurmountable amount of respect for the man then, having always despised the men that had forgotten his father’s dedication so easily. He’d effortlessly slid into work for the lowest rungs of his organization in those days, watching Oswald's loyalty go so far as to be his eventual downfall. He knew even then that the bird would not stay down long and that, when he did return, Ignatius wanted to be an ally.

“What is this?” Oswald demanded, looking to the guard as if expecting some kind of explanation. The guard in question turned to the boy, who let out a rather convincing sigh of disappointment.

“I had feared this would be the case. My uncle’s condition, no doubt, has caused his memory to lapse. He’s become completely unhinged.” Ignatius turned to the guard with a pitiable look. “I suspected as much, but family is still family. If you would give us a moment, I’d like to talk to him in private.”

The guard hesitated, glancing at Oswald’s clear indignation at the boy’s words, but then shrugged like he couldn’t care less. He did not wait very long before leaving the visitor’s cell, settling not too far outside the bar's. Unable to get aid from the guard, Oswald turned his fury onto the boy.

“I don’t know what you intend to do, coming here posing as my family, but I can assure you this will not go unpunished! If you think you can waltz in here and disrespect-”

“Mister Cobblepot,” Ignatius interrupted, softy. He had leaned in, his voice low to keep from being overheard by the guard. “It was simply a cover to deflect suspicion and conceal my true identity. I apologize for my comment on your mental state; I did not mean any disrespect, but to simply get a chance to speak with you, alone.”

Oswald calmed at this, his hackles still raised, but curious about the young man sitting opposite of him at the metal table he found himself at. “Is that so?”

Ignatius gave a curt nod. “Yes, Sir.”

Oswald’s expression twisted in uncertainty, still unconvinced. “What is the nature of your visit, then?”

Ignatius glanced over the Penguin’s shoulder to the guard, who seemed to be staring at them, but his eyes were glazed over. He wasn’t paying half a mind to their conversation. Still, the boy kept quiet to avoid being overheard by accident. “I’ve been a loyal follower of yours for some time, Mister Cobblepot... I’ve come to offer my support in restoring your empire.”

Oswald raised an eyebrow at this. “Hmm. And I suppose you just intend to do this out of the goodness of your heart? Because you want us to be _friends_? I’ve fallen for that trick one too many times, my boy. You’ve wasted your time coming here if that is your angle.”

“On the contrary,” Ignatius said, “I have something I would very much like from you.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have very much to give you at the moment... I’m locked up in Arkham and my once glorious empire has fallen to none other than Sofia Falcone.”

Ignatius nodded. “Yes, Sir. I am aware of your situation, as I am of the woman currently running Gotham’s underworld.”

Although he’d been fortunate enough to avoid running into the woman, Ignatius had heard plenty of the daughter of the late Carmine Falcone. She ran the underworld much as her father had before her, but unlike the man, she had even less regard for the loyalties of her men than he had. Ignatius had spent not a week under the employment of her underlings before he’d parted ways with the brutish men he’d done runs for. He was _done_ being an errand boy for street rats - His aspirations were truly so much _larger_ than that.

“Then what, pray-tell, could you _possibly_ ask of me that I could agree to?”

Ignatius hesitated a moment, finding the correct words for his request. “If you would, Sir... I ask for your tutelage.”

“My... Tutelage?” Oswald repeated the word as if it was foreign to him, his expression returning once again to confusion.

“Yes, Mister Cobblepot.” Ignatius failed to meet his gaze at this moment, his thoughts running over memories long since buried in the deepest recesses of his hardened heart. “The underworld is in my blood - It is my _birthright_ \- but it was taken from me before I could be taught her beauty. It is my desire to not let that legacy die with my parents.”

Oswald was quiet a moment and, although he was not looking at the bird, Ignatius could feel the sudden shift in his disposition. This was _exactly_ the kind of story that he knew would appeal to the old man and it was perhaps his one solace in the whole of the dark incident.

“This is unconventional, I know,” Ignatius continued, “but it is my request that, should I help you in restoring your empire that you take me under your wing - teach me the trade - so that I may honor my father’s memory.”

Another moment’s silence. This time, when Oswald spoke, Ignatius could hear a flicker of consideration in his tone. “But why come to me? Surely there are others who you could make such requests from? Sofia-”

Ignatius shot his gaze upward at this, letting the flame of betrayal to his father lick the edges of it, if only just contained behind the low hiss in his reply. “The Falcone name is the same that allowed my mother and father’s death to go unpunished, despite his years of loyalty to them. The late Carmine bat not even an eye as my parent’s corpse lay bleeding in the streets - His daughter cares even less so for those who are loyal to her. I would not dare disrespect my father’s memory by learning under such a _witch_.”

Oswald gave a half-smirk at the other’s venomous description of her, but that quickly melted back into a neutral expression. “But still, you won’t settle for any other crime lord, now will you? You’ve come all the way here, after all. Why, exactly, must it be _me_?”

Ignatius’ expression softened and his eyes twinkled, slightly, in admiration. “Because I’ve seen the way you are to your men, Sir. Loyalty is returned in turn. You demand compliance, yes, but you also give those who serve you decency. Under the eye of Sofia Falcone, I would simply be a pawn and my loyalty would be as wasted as was my father’s. But, if I were to learn from the great _Penguin_ \- A man who had been able to make Gotham bow to him time and again - I would be doing so with the assurance that I would finally be shown a little _respect_.”

Oswald chuckled at this, making Ignatius blink in surprise, but the amusement held no malice in it, so he did not immediately let himself turn on the bird. A hand came to Oswald’s chin and he considered the other’s word before speaking once again. “You certainly have promise, boy. Perhaps it would do me well to take another lost hatchling under my wing. Alright; For my freedom and return to my rightful place at Gotham’s head, I will teach you everything I know. With my help, you will make your late father proud.”

Ignatius couldn’t help the slight uplift to his expression, though he tried to reign it in to something more professional as Oswald held out his hand to the other, clasping it tightly in his grip to seal the deal.

“You have some nerve, boy,” Oswald noted, somewhat impressed now that he could view the kid across from him as an ally as opposed to a potential threat. “What is your name?”

“Ignatius, Sir,” he answered, smoothly. “Ignatius Ogilvy. But, for the sake of my identity, I will be posing as Ignatius Van Dahl during my visits.”

“Ignatius,” Oswald let the name roll of his tongue, seemingly testing it. “It’s certainly a _powerful_ name, now isn’t it?”

Ignatius gave a small upward tilt to his lip. “I hope so, Sir; Someday.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been some time since their first meeting. Ignatius had returned several times to visit his “uncle” in the weeks that followed, often to find him battered and looking like hell. Ignatius had even had to stitch up a wound or two on the poor bird that the nurses seemed to have pointedly neglected to care for. During his visits, Oswald had said little of his time in the prison, pointedly avoiding Ignatius’ infuriated questioning. Perhaps he thought sparing the boy the details would be for the best, but it certainly wasn’t as if it could be worse than what he experienced out on the streets - This _was_ Gotham, after all.

While he could get little about the going-ons within Arkham, Oswald was more than happy to share with him other details of his imprisonment and - Perhaps more importantly - His eventual release. Early into their meetings, Ignatius had learned of the identity of Martin and how Sofia Falcone kept him hidden away, dangling him just out of Oswald’s reach to keep the man in line. The first thing they would need to do, long before any plans could be made to break Oswald out, would be to find the boy.

The second thing he learned, coming several weeks after their initial meeting, was the return of The Riddler. Edward Nygma had been most recently seen in the Narrows, serving under Lee “The Doc” Thompkins and all but turned from his previous ways of insanity and clever chaos.  Many believed that he’d permanently turned from his old ways, but Oswald had proof to the contrary, which he shared with the boy. It was a riddle, written onto what had once been an origami penguin. Oswald assured him that releasing the Riddler would be absolutely essential to gaining his freedom.

So, that was how he ended up in the Narrows, attending a meeting under the guise of being the head of his own household. Putting on some ragged clothes, pulling a cap over his head, faking near illiteracy, and inventing a sob story - How his father had left them years ago, how his mama was sick and how he had a baby sister to care for - was really not all that difficult of a scam to pull off. It easily gained him access to these secret meetings and it helped him get closer to their fearless leader and, by extension, to Edward Nygma, himself.

He became enough of a regular that The Doc started asking after his sister, insisting he bring her down to the clinic one of these days. He’d managed to pick up a girl off the streets not long after that, using a little money lent to him by Oswald and hiring her to play the role of his little sister.

Now, Ignatius sat in her clinic, keeping a careful eye on The Doc as she checked over the young girl. At some point, the doctor made a confused noise, drawing the attention of the boy. “‘Wassup, Doc?”

“Your sister has an unusually level of proteins in her blood for someone her age,” The Doc noted, giving the girl a brief glance, eyebrow furrowed. “She doesn’t appear to have any physical complications that could cause this... I may have to have you both come back at a later date to look into this more.”

Ignatius frowned, not especially liking the sound of that. So far, the girl had been pretty accommodating for a four-year-old, even being able to show up where he told her to be, when he told her to be there, with little problem. He figured that he could probably pay her for a second performance, but she was still a child and the more often he brought her along the more likely she was to mess up somewhere along the way.

“Can’t ya jus’ do it, now?” he insisted. “T’was a hassle jus’ to get her o’er here in the first place. No doubt Mama is at her wits end worrying about her baby. Ain’t that right, Mary?”

The girl nodded, enthusiastically. He wasn’t sure what her real name was, but he’d told her that that was going to be the name he referred to her by and she’d picked up to it pretty quickly. “Yeppers, Big Brother!”

The Doc looked to her, amused and somewhat charmed by her babyish display. “I’m afraid it can’t be helped if I’m going to get to the bottom of this, but I’ll tell you what; We’ll be done with her, today, and move on to your check up - How about that, Nay?”

He sighed, figuring it was better to play along with her than risk raising suspicion by causing a scene. “If it can’t be helped, Doc.”

She helped the Mary down from the table, settling the four-year-old aside to make room for Ignatius. He easily climbed up as she began her check up. He waited a moment to let her get into the rhythm of things before opening up with his questions. “So, Doc...”

“Yes?”

“Wassup with that fella you always got following you ‘round?”

She paused, giving him a confused look. “You mean Grundy?”

Grundy was the big brute of a man that played bodyguard to The Doc half the time, spending the other half pitted against idiots in the ring at Cherry’s place. He was an intimidating fellow who spoke very little and was defeated even less. Possibly a concern for one day, but relatively unimportant and harmless in the now.

“Nah,” Ignatius corrected, “I was talking ‘bout the tall, boney fella.”

The Doc laughed at his description, telling him to open up his mouth so she could inspect his throat. He did so and she shone a light into his mouth as she answered him. “You mean Ed; I surprised you don’t know about him, Dear. He was the talk of the Narrows back when Penguin was still running around causing havoc in our city.”

Ignatius bit back a retort, refraining from correcting her assessment of _havoc_ ; Instead he chose to question her further on the aforementioned _boney fella_ . “I guess I was busy or some’m. I just was wondering ‘bout him, though. See, some ‘o the boys been saying he’s trouble. Did a whole lot’a dirty back in the day - Hell, I heard he even used to _work_ for that sonuva bitch, Peng’in. I was jus’ wondering how you even knew you could trust him?”

The Doc gave him a look, a little surprised that he knew so much. She brought her light to his ear, inspecting the inside for any signs of anything serious. “You’ve got a pretty smart head on your shoulders there, Nay.”

“Thank ya kindly, ma’am.”

“Hmm. But you needed worry about Ed. He’s made some poor choices in the past, but he’s not that man, anymore. He is really here to help me and the Narrows. You can trust him.”

Ignatius gave her a skeptical look. Truthfully, even if he didn’t know that The Riddler was still trapped away in there somewhere, he would have not been so quick to trust Edward again. Fortunately, that skepticism would only do more in aiding his plan. “I don’ think so.”

She gave another chuckle. “How about, next chance I get, I introduce you to him. Then you can determine for yourself if you should trust him or not.”

Ignatius hid the temptation to smirk, having directed her precisely into doing what he wanted. Instead, he gave an unconvinced face. “I guess... No promises that I’ll like ‘im, though.”

“That’s alright,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t make you promise that, anyways. He can be a bit of an acquired taste.”

He laughed and she joined alongside him. Mary, flawlessly playing the role of the cute and clueless baby sister, also added her own adorable laughter to the mix. The rest of the check-up went by relatively simply, with Ignatius asking varying other questions, some of which were just as invasive, but none directly related to the one regarding the Riddler. He was setting a personality for himself as an inquisitive, if not a bit rude kid, but it wouldn’t due to raise too much suspicion by continuing to pester her about Edward.

When she was finished, she stepped away and let him return his feet to the floor, putting away her tools and removing the disposable gloves she’d been working with. He went and scooped up Mary, intending to leave as quickly as possible. “Is that it, Doc?”

The Doc smiled at him and gave a brief nod. “Yes. It seems you both are some of the healthiest children I’ve seen recently, bar for this anomaly with Mary’s blood. I would say- Oh. Hello, Ed.”

Ignatius turned to the door when she said this, finding Edward standing there, looking rather disheveled. His gaze landed only briefly on the boy before quickly turning to the Doc. “There’s been an incident down at Cherry’s, Lee. People are close to rioting over it and they’re calling for your guidance.”

“Of course,” she grumbled, moving a little faster to put away her tools and grab her coat. “Is anyone hurt?”

“Not when I left, but they will be soon if they aren’t already.”

The Doc gave a disgruntled sound in response. She ushered them all out into the hallway, locking the door behind her. She paused a moment to settle a hand on top of Ignatius’ head. “I’m sorry to have to run. Have a nice evening; Both of you.” She tickled underneath Mary’s chin, making the girl giggle, before stalking down the hallway. Edward moved to follow her, but Ignatius stopped him with by grasping hold of him with his free hand. “Huh?”

“I have a message for you,” Ignatius stated, staring at the man with an expression that he’d yet to see in the boy, accent gone. “He’s willing to say it, but you have to help him, first.”

“Say what?” Edward blinked, confused. “Who is he-?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Ignatius interjected, a slight irritation taking to his tone. It left as quickly as it’d come. “He says that, if it’s really you, that you’ll be able to find Martin without a problem. Do it and he’ll say it.”

“Kid, I don’t know-” Edward began, but Ignatius was already brushing past him, fixing the child on his hip to make carrying her a little easier. The man was forced to just stare after the teen, perplexed and trying to make head or tail of what he’d just witnessed.

“ _Really, Ed. You’d think even_ **_you_ ** _could figure out this one,_ ” the voice in the back of his thoughts chuckled, as if amused. “ _Clearly he was talking to_ **_me_** _._ ”

Edward’s blood ran cold, staring in the direction the kid had gone with a slight panic. He wasn’t really sure who the boy could be working for and what that man intended to do, but whatever it was, if _He_ was involved it couldn’t be good. Whoever Martin was, he had absolutely no intention of looking for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five points to whichever house can guess who Mary is supposed to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward scowled at the boy when he saw him in the next meeting.

He realized, of course, that scowling at a child was a little unbecoming, especially to those that weren’t aware of the situation as he was, but that somehow didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest. He’d inquired further about the boy after the incident at Cherry’s had been resolved, but Lee’s answers to his questions had been less than forthcoming.

“But who _is he_ , Lee,” Edward had pressed, clearly thinking he wasn’t getting through to the doctor. She wiped her hands on a towel, giving him a weird look.

“I told you, Ed. His name is Nay Dahl and he was there with his baby sister, Mary Louis.” Lee tossed the towel aside, moving to put away the tools of her trade which she’d been using just moments before. Expecting them to have arrived before the fighting broke out was a stretch, especially with how Edward had dawdled, but they’d fortunately arrived before the situation escalated too drastically. “They were there for a routine check-up. Beyond that he isn’t _anybody_ ; Just another poor kid who is trying to make it in the Narrows.”

“You don’t seriously believe that, do you?” Edward demanded, an urgency in his tone. “ _Look at him_ , Lee! He doesn’t look like he belongs in the Narrows at all!”

“Could have fooled me,” Lee stated, simply. “From my perspective, it seems like the kid’s been all but raised by the streets.”

“But that’s _precisely_ why he’d do anything to get _out_ of it!” Edward insisted, moving around to her other side so he could continue to face her and ultimately blocking her escape. “There’s something there he isn’t saying. I think he works for someone. Sofia, maybe? The GCPD? Or, oh! Penguin! I bet he’s one of Oswald’s little lap dogs.”

“Ed, this is ridiculous,” Lee sighed, rubbing her temple. “Sofia is my _sister-in-law_. It hardly makes sense for her to send someone to spy on me. If the GCPD wanted to keep an eye on me, you know as well as I that Jim Gordon would just waltz right down here by himself. And _Penguin_? _Really_? Why the hell would he hire some kid to keep an eye on me when he’s locked up in Arkham for life?”

“I dunno... Maybe he wants to hurt you,” Edward reasoned, “He knows how much you and your work in the Narrows means to me. He’s still bitter about the fact his love was unrequited. It’s the perfect-”

“That boy does not work for Penguin,” Lee interjected, firmly. “He is the _first_ person in line to start cussing out that man if given an opportunity. Trust me.”

Edward did trust her, truly, but he knew one of Oswald’s lackies when he saw one. So, when the meeting rolled around and that boy was sitting in the back row, his feet up and his cap pulled over his eyes as he pretended to be sleeping, Edward refused to take his eyes off of him.

In addition to this _Nay Dahl_ character, he’d also started looking into the mysterious Martin as well. He had decided, ultimately, that knowing who this character was would be beneficial to discovering who it was that Nay truly worked for. He was _fairly certain_ it was Oswald, but one could never be _too careful_.

So far, his leads had not taken him anywhere and it was moments like this that he missed his cleverness. He could easily sense _Him_ in the back of his mind whenever thoughts like that arose and quickly shut them down, reminding himself that he didn’t _need_ to be clever when he was _happy_.

“ _You and I both know that’s not the truth._ ”

“Shut up,” Edward hissed under his breath, pointedly avoiding glancing over at the reflective surface of the window, knowing his alter ego would be there laughing at him.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he saw Lee move into his peripheral, her brow furrowed in concern. “Ed? Are you alright?”

He quickly straightened out a little, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, just a little on edge. You know how it worries me whenever we hold these meetings ever since the incident with Kranks.”

She returned the smile with one of her own, gently squeezing his arm in reassurance. “I know, but it’ll be alright. Grundy saved me then and, if it happens again, he’ll come to my aid now. Besides, if we let ourselves be scared off every time we came close to danger, we’d never be able to get the Narrows anywhere, yeah?”

Edward sighed, knowing she was right. “Yeah...”

She gave his arm one last squeeze before heading off, intermingling among the people of the Narrows before the meeting begun. At one point, she headed up to Nay, greeting him softly and he glanced up from under his hat, returning her greeting with a toothy grin. Edward could feel his own teeth grinding at this. A large presence appeared at his side and he needn’t look to know it was Butch.

“Look at him, Grundy. The little _rat_. He’s got something sinister planned; I can just _tell_.”

Butch eyed the boy in question, his confusion apparent. From where he was standing, the punk just looked to be some poor kid off the street. Maybe he was being a little indelicate when dealing with Lee, but he certainly wouldn’t be the first and if she couldn’t at least handle that, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be where she was. “The boy?”

“ _Yes_ , the boy,” Edward answered, shooting him a hard look. “ _Look at him_ , Grundy! He clearly doesn’t _belong_ here. You can tell even _he_ doesn’t think so... Yet, he’s got Lee wrapped so tightly around his little finger that she can’t see what’s right in front of her nose. He’s trouble.”

Butch gave him an unconvinced look. “Jealous.”

Edward turned to him in confusion, but it didn’t take long to catch on what the brute meant. “No! I’m not- I’m not _jealous_! He’s an unimportant little _brat_! I’m just worried about _Lee_.”

Butch didn’t seem to move on his stance. “Jealous.”

“You know what, Grundy? Screw you, too.” Edward moved away from him, searching out a new area to brood in after his two closest allies chose to chafe him like this. It was in this same moment that Lee headed for the front of the room, calling attention to those gathered. People began to find their seats and, just by mere coincidence, Edward found himself shuffled until he was stationed right behind the boy that was causing him so much stress. He took a seat, leaning in slightly as Lee began to speak.

“I’m onto you, Kid,” Edward muttered, attempting to introduce a low threat into his voice. One could easily have believed that Nay was ignoring him, if it weren’t for the slight turn of his head in Edward’s direction and the soft snort in reply to his statement.

“That so?” he asked, his faux-accent slipping to the wayside in that moment. “What exactly are you onto, Mister Nygma? Do feel free to share.”

Edward snarled. “I know you work for Penguin.”

“Doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure that out,” Nay returned, simply. “Especially considering I all but _told you_ that I did. Speaking of geniuses, what is the progress with Martin. Mister Cobblepot is growing restless waiting for results. He said you should be able to work faster than this.”

“I’m _not_ looking for this _Martin_ character,” Edward returned, sharply.

“Ah,” Nay replied, seemingly having gotten the answer to his accusation. “So he’s holding you back then? I’ll be sure to let the bird know why there is such a delay. In the meantime, he said it may prove useful to push things along a little, so _here_.” Nay produced a photo from the inner pocket of his jacket, passing it discretely to the other. Edward took it and looked it over. In the picture was a young boy, a pad of paper hanging around his neck and dressed up in what was, no doubt, a suit of Oswald’s choosing. “Apparently this is Martin. I assure you that I was as disappointed as you are, but regardless this is what the boss wants and I’m obliged to get it for him. See to it that you find this kid.”

Edward felt a mild indignation flare up inside of him and he knew, in the back of his mind, that it had to do with the insinuation that he needed _help_ figuring out this riddle, but he didn’t want to let himself admit that. Instead he redirected that feeling into the idea that he was working alongside Oswald at all. “I am not going on some errand for _Oswald Cobblepot_. My days of working alongside him are _over_. I’m with Lee, now, and no matter how you may have everyone else here convinced you’re some harmless street urchin, _I_ know better.”

Nay didn’t respond to him, but rather rose out of his seat, laying out an objection to something that Lee had said. Even still, Edward could see the curl to the edge of his lip that showed he found the man to be _amusing_. That indignation inside him flared up again, but this time he knew that it was his own and not belonging to _Him_.

“ _Maybe we should give it a shot, Ed. You know how we always used to_ **_love_ ** _a puzzle._ ”

Edward settled more into his seat, arms crossed and a look of determination set onto his features. He was _not_ about to fall into that trap. “No. We’re done. I’m never letting you out, again. Not for any puzzle and certainly not for _this_.”


	4. Chapter 4

Oswald had been fully expecting to have to scold his young pupil when the guards had come to tell him he had a visitor.

If left to his own devices, he knew that Ignatius would no doubt be in every day to see the bird. The kid had promise, but he was still too wild and untrained to think things through all the way. Visiting him under the guise of being a nephew was a good first step to avoid suspicion, but it would be for naught if he was wandering into Arkham every day at noon like clockwork, not to mention such predictability would make him so much easier to target once he had begun to make enemies which he no doubt would end up doing. He’d given the boy _very clear_ instructions not to visit more than once a week and _never_ on the same day at the same time. He had already been in the previous day, close to the dinner hour, but he didn’t put it past the boy to disobey such an order, quite yet.

Oswald was not even in the little visitor’s cell, yet, before he was going in on his tirade. “I _told you_ not to come here more than-” His voice was cut short, finally seeing the other person in the room waiting for him. Sitting at the metal table, looking for all intents and purposes like he would rather be anywhere else, was Oswald’s once friend. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Expecting someone else?” Edward inquired, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “A rugged looking boy from the Narrows, perhaps?”

It took Oswald a moment to comprehend what Edward meant by this, knowing no one off the top of his head by this description, but quickly came to realize who he was referring to. “Ah. So _that’s_ how Ignatius is going about it, then. He does have quite a bit of flare for the dramatic, doesn’t he? If you must know; _Yes_ , I was expecting him.”

“Ignatius?” Edward blinked, “Is that Nay Dahl’s real name, then?”

Oswald was visibly taken aback by the other’s question, completely caught off guard. “You mean to tell me _that_ is the name he picked to avoid suspicion? He is fortunate that most of the people in the Narrows, yourself included, are complete _idiots_.”

Oswald sighed, rubbing his temple and ignoring the offended look that Edward was giving him. “No matter. He’s done what I needed and that is what is important. There will be time to give him better advice on covering his own tracks in the future.”

Edward narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. “What exactly has he done?”

There was a chuckle on Oswald’s part and he turned his face towards his once friend, a hint of giddiness in his expression that made Edward’s blood run cold. “Why, Ed... He’d brought me exactly what I asked for... He’s brought me _Him_.”

Edward’s eyes went wide and he stood, suddenly realizing the trap that he had let himself walk into. All this time he’d spent, keeping _Him_ at bay, he’d never realized how easily he’d been led to the slaughterhouse.

A presence over his shoulder made him turn to look, only to find there was no one there. Upon turning back, he saw _Him_ , standing next to Oswald as if the two were both one of an inseparable pair. The sight sent another strike of fear through his system. “N-no-!”

Oswald began hobbling closer. Edward went to move away, but Oswald was able to reach across and grab hold of the other man with little difficulty. So caught up in his dismay, Edward was able to do little more than plead for the other not to do this.

“I was so certain,” Oswald mumbled, his voice becoming softer and just the smallest touch fond. “I was _so certain_ that you were gone. After everything, though, you sought me out, didn’t you? You, whose name I would not say...”

“Please... Please _don’t_ -” Edward could see those weeks of control slipping through his fingers. Lee had given him strength - Given him _purpose_ \- but there was only so much power that she had. _He_ was clever and that was enough to overcome truly any barrier set in his way.

_What was that you mentioned before? About not needing to be_ **_clever_ ** _if you were_ **_happy_ ** _?_

“But, since I need his help...”

Edward’s voice was small, scared. His fingers wrapped around the wrist of the hand that held him in place, eyes wide and full of horror. “ _Don’t-_ ”

“I need _you_.”

“ _No_ -”

“ _Riddler._ ”

Edward brought his fingers up to Oswald’s neck, intending to cut him off before he could utter the accursed name, but he suddenly found himself pulling up short in carrying through with the act. He was fading... He could feel it. There was something to be said about taking to the backseat of one’s own mind. It was both a horrifying reality and a release of a great burden. His vision faded, though he could hear the voice of an old friend as his consciousness dissolved into nothing.

“ _Shall we get to work?_ ”

* * *

Ignatius noticed something different about him almost immediately.

He was the same man, of course. Ignatius had seen him plenty of times at this point to recognise the other well enough. But even still, something about him was undeniably off. He walked about in a different, more put together manner. The glint in his eye spoke of a madness that Edward had never carried before.

“Ed,” Ignatius greeted him, making the other bristle. They’d agreed to meet in a rather suspicious looking alley behind what once had been Oswald’s pride and joy, though it now went under the alias of _The Sirens_.

“My name...” Edward huffed, “Is The Riddler.”

Ignatius raised an eyebrow at this. Though he knew about the man’s infamous reign, it’d been some time since Edward had gone by that name. This version of the criminal was more interesting, certainly, but equally more dangerous as well.

The teen nodded at him as the only acknowledgement for the name change. “How can I help you this evening, Mister Nygma?”

“I spoken to your _uncle_ ,” Edward explained, fixing his cuffs for something to do with his hands. “He released me from my prison and, as such, I have agreed to help you with the task he has given you.”

“Fantastic,” Ignatius said. “I could really use a location, if you have that.”

“I’ve already deduced where he is,” Edward answered, smoothly. He seemed satisfied with the condition of his cuffs and turned his attention back to Ignatius’ face. “I did some looking into it ages go - Strictly for curiosity’s sake. However, that’s not the difficult part of this situation.”

This, at least, was a surprise to the other. Ignatius furrowed his brow. “Where is he?”

“ _Unsurprisingly_ , Miss Falcone doesn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on the boy,” Edward explained, his tone slightly patronizing as if he was explaining this to a child. Ignatius bit back the urge to shoot him for it. “It seems Oswald’s little nestling is right here is Gotham, herself. The _real_ question, however, is how does one go about sneaking in and out of her estate without drawing attention to oneself?”

Ignatius let out a curse under his breath, incredibly unhappy with the news that the other had presented. It was one thing to break into a random warehouse and incapacitate a couple of henchmen, but her _home_? There were certainly things easier done.

Edward smirked at his visible reaction. “Don’t fret, boy. I’m already working on a plan.”

Ignatius just stared back at him, not quite sure he trusted that smile. Teeth perfectly aligned and a blinding white, curling up at the edges like a cheshire cat. It was eerie to look at. He had the urge to look away from it.

“I look forward to working with you,” he stated, instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some heavy inspiration taken from the most recent episode of _Gotham_ in this chapter, though the scene I've written is probably the lesser of the two. Mostly, I was just stuck on working on this part. I've actually got several chapters already written once Martin is rescued, but I'm struggling to get to them, so bear with me as I figure that out and feel free to leave suggestions if you have any.


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